Stuck Between the Ribs
by morglaw
Summary: She hadn't expected to see him again, this was meant to be her way to start again properly... but she did see him. Do they go back or start again? Suck at summaries, gonna hold off on telling the pairing for a while (you'll know by the end of the first chapter though, so...). T for now.
1. Chapter 1: Drumming Sound

_Hi! I've loved this show for four years, and there's a particular character that I've gotten to like more and more as the show's gone on. I think you'll able to guess by the end of the chapter, it's pretty obvious, so not gonna say now. Hope you like this, sorry about editing,_

Chapter One – Drumming Sound

"… _There's a drumming noise inside my head_

_That starts when you're around_

_I swear that you could hear it_

_It makes such an all mighty sound…"_

– Florence and the Machine

* * *

Ellie could see the heat, but that smell is what she remembered. Kentucky… bourbon and grease and heat. Even in the hospital 'Especially here…' the woman with light brown hair, rolled her shoulders as she finished filling out her chart. She had been back for about six months, but this time it hadn't just been for a visit. Her Grandpa Josiah had gotten older and he needed help to get around… and she needed… Ellie shook her head 'He needs help…'

He had been a three star lieutenant general in the Marine Corps, a title that only a select few could boast. Now, he was forgetting things and living at the Lexington Garden Care Community for Retired Seniors. They were all that was left of the family so Ellie had moved closer so that he wouldn't be alone.

"Penelope" she was drawn out her thoughts by the charge nurse, Maybel Brooks, an elderly woman, who looked warm and cuddly around the middle but had a hard tone of voice and disapproving eyes.

She had repeatedly asked Maybel to call her Ellie, but the hard-bitten nurse insisted on using her full name. There were only two names that Ellie had ever responded well to, and Penelope wasn't one of them, it reminded the twenty-eight year old of every school teacher she had ever clashed with. If it hadn't been her grandmother's namesake she would have legally changed it years ago.

"Yes." Ellie gave her most polite smile to the woman before her. It was five minutes before she could go home to Beau, but she could tell by the chart in Maybel's hand she was going to get pulled into doing a favour. It was the danger of working in the ER, especially on a Friday night.

"Guy in curtain 3 needs sutures…"

'Crap…' Ellie clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth. After what had been an exhausting day of running around she just wanted to go home. However, Ellie knew that she would do it, that was pretty mcuh how she had gotten roped into covering this shift in the ER in the first place. By title Ellie was a Pediatric Nurse Practitioner, but because she had gotten her Masters in Nursing Science and had a few years of experience she was able to cover shifts pretty much all over with ease… and she was able to suture someone without the potential risk of getting hassled by the hospitals lawyers and management, which was why Maybel was holding the chart out to her.

Ellie was probably one of the more qualified for management of the nurses in Lexington State hospital, but in terms of her position she was lower on the ladder than she would have been had she stayed in California. She had done everything she could to fit in and get on the staffs' good side, but she still missed her friends from her old job, Gina and Mitch… Dr. Cooper they had all helped her along and encouraged her and she was hoping that in time the same relationships would develop in Lexington.

But staring at the impatient brown eyes of Maybel Brooks, Ellie could tell it wouldn't be easy.

"Well, I'll get right on that…" Ellie continued to smile, while taking the chart and internally cringing at how long the extra task might take.

"Ain't that good o' you" the older woman said in her heavy Kentucky accent, rolling her eyes and walking away before Ellie could respond.

'Yeah sure, no thanks needed… not like I'm staying late or anything…' Ellie acerbically thought to herself at Maybel's obvious sarcasm.

Blowing a few strands of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail out of her light blue eyes, Ellie put the chart she'd finished working on the rack at the admin desk, before wearily giving a quick glance at the wound rundown on the chart Maybel had given her.

'Argh! Just wanna go home…' Ellie huffed, hastily grabbing everything she needed to clean and stitch up the gash on the person's forearm from the supply rack in the dimly lit store room.

On her way to curtain 3 though, Ellie was sidetracked a patient in curtain 6. 'What the hell?'

"Ms. Dieter?" Ellie walked picked up the woman chart. She was in her late-40s and had gall stones. Ellie had been there when she had come in about 11 hours ago, at one in the afternoon.

"Hello there sweetheart." The woman tried to smile but cringed instead, she was clearly in pain, covered in sweat and her hands gripping on to her pillow and the sheet beneath her as she spoke.

"What are you still doing here?" Ellie frowned, putting back the woman's chart, placing the supplies and curtain 3's chart on the empty chair beside Ms. Dieter's bed. Moving closer to the head of the bed, Ellie checked the monitor and Ms. Dieter's drip.

"I'm waitin'…" the blond woman gritted out, her clammy hand reaching to squeeze Ellie's for support through the pain.

"You should have gone up by now." Ellie gave Ms. Dieter's hand squeeze back, turning her head to look out at the masses of people walking by the curtain that she had just opened further.

"I didn' wanna disturb… I can wait my turn."

The brown haired woman, looked down at this poor lady. If anything her surgery had been delayed by at least a day, pushing her in hospital recovery time of one or two days back as well. For some it might have been too bad, but Ms. Dieter was suffering and even a day was a long time to be away from home.

"Where are your kids?" Ellie asked.

"You remember?" Ms. Dieter stare up at the young woman, clearly surprised.

Ellie nodded "Sally and Daisy… still in grade school aren't they?"

"Yes…" the woman nodded into her pillow "my sister's lookin' after 'em while my husband's out o' town."

"That's good." Ellie nodded, with a warm smile, "Let me go and see where they're at with your schedule, kay?"

"Thanks, sweetie" the older woman gave Ellie's hand a pat before letting go.

Taking Ms. Dieter's chart with her, Ellie made her way back to the admin's desk on a mission to straighten this out.

* * *

'Finally.' Ellie slammed down the receiver, she had just gotten off the phone with the clerks who somehow had no idea about Ms. Dieter at all. She talked to them for twenty minutes, feeling utterly annoyed, trying her best not to yell while figuring out the situation and relaying Ms. Dieter's information.

Now she really was tired, but she had to finish up with her patient. She notified Norma, the nurse on shift, gave Ms. Dieter the dosage of Demerol that Dr. Ferguson had prescribed and told the woman that her surgery would happen first thing in the morning.

"Thank you so much." The blond lady had slurred, the drugs and the tiredness of pain kicking in. "Why don't you just sit talk with me?"

Giving her a genuine grin Ellie began to speak "I would, but I gotta go home. I have…" something clicked in Ellie's mind. 'Sit?' her light blue eyes fell to the seat by the already snoring Ms. Dieter's bed.

"Damn" she mumbled under her breath, realizing that she still had curtain 3's chart, which meant that it was likely no one had seen the guy. 'Maybe he's on the board?' she chewed her lip, hoping that someone might have checked on him if he had been marked up there. 'Then I could go home too…' she added as a selfish after thought.

In any case she picked up the supplies and the chart that she'd left on the chair and made her way down a few beds to the closed curtains of bed 3.

"Hey!" Ellie heard the sound of Dr. Howe's voice. He had just come on about an hour ago and though she hadn't known him long it was important to learn and recognize the sound of the voices of the doctors that you were working with fast. She had pulled open the green curtain an inch or two, before she had turned see the grey haired Dr. Howe a few feet away. "Good catch with 6" he smiled kindly.

Ellie returned the gesture, "Thanks." She replied softly, not wanting to wake any of the patients that might have been sleeping.

Dr. Howe gave her short nod in farewell, before carrying on with his work.

Grinning widely, Ellie wanted to do a happy dance, but restrained herself she felt as though she had finally gained some way with making a good impression. She held on to the curtain again but before she could open she heard another voice, one that made her smile melt away, her ears fill with thudding and skin turn to goose flesh.

"Poppy?"

Before she even knew what she was doing she had stepped through small gap between the curtains of the space, dropped the supplies she was carrying and pushed herself up against him. Her eyes falling closed as her mouth devoured his hungrily, his tongue deliciously found its way into hers, he seemed just as eager to meet her force and consume her. Ellie didn't know what she was doing… her heart was racing, her head was pounding, her skin was on fire, one of her hands had gotten stuck between them, she wrenched it up the back of sliding over his chest, up his neck and before her fingers were buried in his sun blenched hair. Pulling him closer, she could feel his calloused touch through the back of her scrubs, moving down, squeezing her backside. She moaned against his lips, her knees weakening as he let out a growl at the sound.

'Oh god…' was all she could think, drinking him in. Letting him hold her up as her mind and body turned into mush. She just wanted to be as close to his body, to him as possible. She could taste the whiskey on his tongue, but under that he still tasted like him, like home. For the first time in a long while she felt really, truly safe again.

Somewhere out there in the fog, she could hear the small sound of something, as it became louder she realized that it was the sound of someone clearing their throat. Her eyes popped open, she jerked away, her body protested immediately missing his heat and closeness.

"Ottie… I…" She couldn't bring herself to say anymore, her face was filled with an embarrassed flush, she hadn't even looked at the man sitting on the bed since she had pulled away. Not knowing what else to do, she turned to where the throat clearing had come from, a tall man wearing a cowboy hat and an amused expression on his face was staring at her. She could feel herself cracking under the pressure of her humiliation, "Excuse me" she muttered, keeping her head down and practically sprinting out of the cubicle. She swore she could hear his heartbeat with each step she took further away.

* * *

"Who was that?" Raylan asked watching the girl, as frightened as rabbit, run away. He turned back to look at his workmate, still bandage and waiting to be sewn up.

The former soldier had gotten into a little scuffle at the bar, a few jackasses who didn't know when to shut up about veterans and their rights to extra services.

Long story short the assholes got their asses hand to them, it was a win… even though Tim got slice with a switchblade.

Tim had been in a good mood when Raylan had gone to the bathroom, still riding his high from the drinks and the win. But after that girl… the man looked like was chewing glass. His gaze distractedly stuck to where the girl had disappeared to behind the curtain, passed Raylan.

"What?" He suddenly snapped, as if he'd only just realized Raylan had said anything, accusingly staring the tall man down.

"I asked who that was?" Raylan questioned again, in his line of work it was hard for him to be offended by blunt mood changes. Plus, in his time working with Tim, Raylan had never seen or heard tell of anything remotely to do with the women in the marksman's life… so he was curious.

"No one" Tim averted his eyes, looking down at the red stain seeping through the gauze on his left forearm.

Raylan's chin pebbled, as he nodded appreciatively "Just go around kissing girls you don't hardly know, do yah… 'Ottie'?"

"I didn't say I didn't know her, said she's no one." He answered sharply, using a tone of voice and giving Raylan a stare that told the U. S. Marshall he had better just drop it… for now anyway.

"All right…" Raylan sighed looking down at the medical supplies and papers on the floor "… we'd better find someone to stitch you up… don't reckon she'll be back in hurry." He looked off to where the girl had run.

As he stepped back out into the hall, Raylan could hear Tim's bitter scoff, "Not likely…"

* * *

_Hope you find it ok. Really can't wait for the next season! Let me know what you think!_


	2. Chapter 2: Honey and the Moon

_Hi! Hope everyone is doing well. Thanks for the support so far. Really appreciate it! Apologies about the editing._

Chapter Two – Honey and the Moon

"_... Remember when we first met_

_And everything was still a bet_

_In love's game_

_You would call _

_I'd call you back _

_And then I'd leave a message_

_On your answering machine..."_

– Joseph Arthur

* * *

That feeling of being whole was gone.

'What is he doing here?' She asked her pulse still thumping in her skull as she sped home.

The last time she had seen Timothy Gutterson had been in Georgia. She had been just as scared then as she was now. He had gotten a leave from his two year tour in Afghanistan and she had the summer off school, so she could go and visit his home state. Had a feeling something was wrong, but fought it all the way on her trip down from California. She couldn't deny it though when he called her Penelope instead of Poppy.

She hadn't seen him in years, her father had been a Major General and she had been the definition of an army brat. The day they had met for the first time Tim had made note of that. In the Museum of Aviation at Robins Air Force Base, where she had been handing out poppies for the upcoming Memorial Day, he had bumped into her while on field trip with his high school class. Ellie hadn't enrolled anywhere, her father's transfer posting had just been started a day ago, so the young girl had been free volunteer to hand out the felt flowers. It hadn't really been going well, she was too shy to advertise loudly and very nervous about approaching a group of high school seniors, a year older than her.

But around the time he bumped into her and knocked her basket of pins to the floor, Ellie had been getting upset with herself, she was feeling invisible and she knew it was her own fault. Unfortunately for Tim that meant all of her anger busted out and unjustly was taken out on him.

"You'd better take them all" she had demanded, getting on her knees and scraping the flowers towards herself.

"What are you an ambassador for poppies for something?" he looked down, staying behind by her as his group of friends went on.

"No, there for Memorial Day, you ignora... Ow..." she hissed having pricked her index finger hard on the point of a pin. Sucked the blood that began beading on her skin, staring reproachfully up at the wavy haired boy.

"Jeez, calm down there poppy lady..." he drawled with all of his Georgian swagger, crouching down to help her.

"My name's Ellie, Penelope to you..." she stopped sucking her finger in order to sneer at him properly.

"That's too funny. Poppy suits you better... you sort of…" his blue eyes scanned her face, she had found it difficult to breathe in that moment. "Pop..." he smiled, handing her the flowers he'd picked up.

"Yeah well how would you like it if I called you..." she paused, realizing that she had introduced herself with his asking, "… what's your name?"

"Timothy..." his said slowly, a different slower smile spreading across his lips.

Her mouth suddenly dry, she cleared her throat, finishing "How would you like it if I called you Mothy or something?" Ellie stuffed the flowers back into her basket, before returning her bleeding finger to her mouth.

His blue eyes pinned her again, she noticed that he had been playing with a leftover felt flower, she could just make out the tint of red where the needle had poked her "I think I'd like that very much."

She had shivered… she had only been 17 and even with her bloodied finger in her mouth, she still shivered in a way that made her stomach drop out.

"Where do you live?" He had asked bluntly, his gaze welcoming and kind.

"Ah… here" she sort of rasped out in spite of herself, gesturing to the base "Well, ar- around here." She stuttered nervously.

"Army brat huh?" he grinned, offering his hand to her as he stood up.

She took it, leaving the basket on the ground. His hand was warm and comforting, as he stood there just smiling charmingly and holding her hand.

"I'm not a brat." Ellie bristled feeling offended, despite the tingling in her belly telling her to agree with what he said.

"Sure thing, Poppy." He smirked at her childlike defense.

He was a few inches taller than her, she could see some dark circles under his bright blue eyes. Tim was so clearly tired, but smiling like that, and being like that he had something that had made her heart race… still made her heart race.

"Argh!" she stopped at a red light, the street lamps flooded the empty night time streets and filled her grandfather's old Ford truck with orange light. Her knuckles turned white as she gipped the steering wheel, she thumped her head back against the driver's seat.

She closed her eyes trying, taking deep inhales through her nose in attempt to calm herself. From Mothy, to Othy to Ottie they had fallen in love. The really deep, I'll go insane without you kind of love. He had graduated before her, but stuck around, even joined the army. But before he started basic training, Ellie's father was resigned to the Vandenberg base in California. But that first Summer he was the first person she'd ever gotten drunk with, the first person she had slept in the arms of, the first person she could imagine herself having babies with… Neither her mother nor her dad hadn't been impressed with Tim, but she hadn't cared. As long as he called her Poppy and came around to see her, Ellie couldn't care less what anyone else thought.

They camped out under the stars, she could still feel the weight of his head resting against her stomach as she stroked his soft light hair. Her fingers burned. Her insides burned.

She felt as though her world was coming apart 'Why did he have to show up?'

That day had been the one of worst she'd ever had. He hadn't called her Poppy, he kissed he forehead, held her at arm's length… told her that he was thinking about a change.

Poppy had done everything in her power to brush it off, but a week later, after he had shipped out again and she had returned to California he had sent her a letter that had ripped her heart into pieces.

She had written back furiously, he had changed his cell number and wouldn't talk to her when she tried contacting him through his unit. She had been 22 at the time and somehow she had managed to keep going. Day by day it had become easier not to see his face, or reread one of his letter or smell the clothes she had appropriated from him. It was easier because Trent came along and then Beau.

Beau had been her saviour, Ellie knew it for a fact. If not for him, who knew how long she would have been stuck in hell with Trent.

Shakily opening her light blue eyes, Ellie checked her rear-view mirror 'No one there…' she didn't know if she was relieved or sad, either way she let go of an exhale that she had been holding in.

He had always been good at that… finding her. He could spot people and keep track of them like no one else she knew.

For a while, when things had been really bad, she had comforted herself with the idea that he would come. But he never did.

Now, when she was trying her life together he just appeared out of the blue.

'I wonder if he's ok?' she couldn't help but think of the stitches he had been needing. Immediately she shook her light haired head, the light had turned green. 'He broke my heart.' She forced herself to remember as she accelerated, through the intersection. Ellie didn't want to care about him, she didn't want to turn the car around and go back.

'He left me.' she made herself remember why she was where she was 'He didn't love me.'

'And I stopped loving him.' she tried to convince herself... she had believed it for years but seeing him again was like being shot through the chest.

She wasn't sure about anything anymore. Except... 'Beau' she focused on the road before her. 'I just have to get home to him.'

She licked the back of her teeth, she could taste him a shiver ran up her spine.

'What are you doing here Ottie?'she asked out to the dimly lit road before her, as she tried push to push every intoxicating thing about him out of her mind.

* * *

"Poppy." He sort of groaned out to himself.

It probably hadn't been a good idea to start drinking with his fresh stitches but he had needed to lose himself.

"Poppy" he had slumped forward in his seat at the bar, as he aimlessly spoke into what he had guessed was his sixth glass of whiskey, but he wasn't really sure anymore.

"I hear ya' stranger," a female voice with a heavy Kentucky accent spoke from the bar stool next to him. He had told Raylan that he would be going home with every intention of finding alcohol as soon as soon the trigger happy Marshall was out of sight.

Tim sniggered, out the corner of his eye he could see the brunette smiling at him with what was obviously meant to a seductive smile.

"You do?" He took a drink of his whiskey, before lolling his head to the side, giving the woman a lazy smile. "You" he nodded towards her in doubt "Hear me?"

"Sure thing, sugar..." she stated knowingly "… sounds like a girl's got you down."

The smile on Tim's lips faltered, he looked down swirling what was left of his whiskey around in his glass "Not a girl. The girl." He mumbled, his blue gaze stuck to the drink in his left hand "My girl..."

"Your girl, huh?" She doubtfully asked.

"My girl's a bitch" he downed the whiskey, feeling the burn of it down his throat.

"Hmm... sounds like she did a number on you..." the woman observed.

Tim could hear the flirtatious smile in her voice as he nodded, slamming the empty glass on the bar "Another one, Joe..."

"Comin' righ' up haus..." the pot-bellied, 60 year old behind the bar obliged him.

"How many have you had?" The brunette questioned him.

Tim shrugged, running his hands back through his lengthening hair, his new stitches aching at the movement. He remembered those nights, the feel of her fingers, the sounds of the crickets nearby, her smell, her taste... the heat. He scrubbed his war hardened hands over his closed eyes.

"Say..." the woman interrupted his thoughts with a saccharine giggle, "... isn't a bar tender meant to cut you off?" he could hear the sound of her chair creaking as he leaned in a bit, lowering his hands to see the top of her dress move down a little as she shifted.

"He'll get more with my ass in this seat than out there" Tim spoke past his hands, jerked his head in the general direction of the entrance, he could feel the fuzziness wearing off with every word.

"I'd say you'd get more with your ass out there." Her black lined, hazel eyes filled with innuendo and moved to the door before coming back to him, her hand had found its way to rest on his uninjured forearm.

Tim's drunken eyes slid down to where her painted fingers were placed on him, slowly he raised his gaze to look at the woman's face. He knew what she was trying to do, but when he heard Joe slid over his glass, Tim decided "Ah… What hell?" He took his drink off the sticky bar.

"Well, that's mighty fine... you're not even gonna buy me one?" she pulled away from him, though she was still eying him with an insinuation of wanting go somewhere him.

"Joe could ya' get the lady a ..." he trailed off, waiting for the brunette to finish.

"Rum and coke." She nodded with an odd tint of pride.

Tim's brow raised in amusement, before he ordered with a sigh "A rum and coke."

"Thanks, hun." She leaned up on her elbows against the bar.

He noticed the smoothness of her back, visible by the cut of the dress she was wearing, there was a tattoo of a dove on her left wrist, he could see the fading tan line of band on her ring finger, there was a nervous tick at her mouth when she was nervous, her toe right tapped against the bar before she said something sugary… after all these years out of the rangers and even drunk Tim could still pick up these small things pretty much automatically… except for 'her'. He had spent the whole night trying to remember anything other than how it felt in that moment she had suddenly reappeared into his life, he couldn't make anything out at all, other than feeling on fire again. Really alive again.

'It'd be nice to have something warm, at least...' Tim's increasingly drunken mind remarked as took in the sight of her. 'Even if isn't...' He cut his thoughts off, shifting forward in his seat to ask in a quiet voice.

"So what's plan?"

She abruptly turned to face him, "The plan?"

"Here you go." Joe put her drink in front of the woman.

The woman took the glass, giving Joe a smile before she carried on speaking "First I gotta ask for a drink and you don't even ask about my name?"

"What's your..." he started to ask mundanely before she interrupted.

"Janis." The woman flicked her brown hair over her shoulder, introducing herself with wide smile.

"Tim." He offered with a sigh, slumping back into his seat and taken another drink from his glass.

"Timothy?" She asked, her voice high-pitched in a blatant attempt to be cute.

He shook his head, he hadn't used his full name in a while. Nothing very good had ever been associated with it.

"Timmy?"

"Just Tim."

"Kinda stern there, huh?" She giggled again "No other nicknames?"

He flinched, his mind wandering for a moment to something he didn't want to remember. Tim forced himself to focus "I thought you wanted to get out of here..." His eyes and voice held a hard edge now.

The woman cocked her head to the side, considering him "Really wanna forget that bitch don't you?"

With that Tim drowned his drink. "Janis" He stood up, reaching for the wallet in his jeans and taking out enough to cover their drinks, he put the money by his empty glass on the counter.

"Have a good night." He tipped his head to her, clumsily stepping of the line of chairs.

"Wait? What?" It took her a second to catch up. She reached for Tim's elbow once she did, causing him to turn around and look down at her.

"I can't abide anyone calling her that." He stated plainly.

"But you just..."

"My girl's different and you can't call her that." He slurred before yanking his arm away from the woman and walking out the door.

Looking up at the starry Southern sky, didn't help any with the memories that were threatening to coming forward. He swore he could hear her voice, smell her scent like home.

"Argh!"

Shutting his eyes he resigned himself 'I need another god damn drink.'

* * *

_Sorry about editing. Please let me know what you think._


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